


2+7 = 4+5 = Love

by Melanie_b



Category: Kabby fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Awkward Crush, Crush, Dad!Marcus, F/M, Fluff, Love, Marcus is a dork, Modern AU, Smitten!Marcus, Smut, Teacher!Abby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b
Summary: Marcus has an unfortunate crush on Octavia's second grade teacher.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Aurora Blake & Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake & Marcus Kane, Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake, Callie Cartwig & Abby Griffin, Callie Cartwig/Charmaine Diyoza, Charmaine Diyoza & Abby Griffin, Octavia Blake & Marcus Kane
Comments: 41
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veridissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veridissima/gifts), [Kabby_Kru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabby_Kru/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Joana! This fic is for you and Jamie, and I'll post a chapter a day between today and Jamie's birthday on Friday! It's just a bit of fluff but I hope you like it. It was inspired by a certain convo in a group chat.

Marcus Kane drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his three-year-old Mercedes SUV, trying to keep his impatience under control. They had been ready to leave, Bellamy had his gym kit, Octavia had her math homework which she had spent an hour crying over the previous evening, they both had two shoes on _and_ a coat - and the shoes matched, which was an achievement - and he was feeling accomplished. He hadn’t lost his temper, or yelled, or cried into his coffee. He’d been calm and in control and at seven thirty-one they were strapped in the car, ready to leave, when Octavia had let out a shriek that had made him smack his head against the steering wheel in despair. 

“It’s Show and Tell,” she said, scrabbling at the car door. “I need my sea shells I found on the beach in Florida last year.” And she’d dashed back into the house, where she had been for the last six minutes now, and Marcus’s blood pressure was rising steadily with every second that passed. It was a twenty minute drive to school and they had to be there at seven fifty-five, a possibility which was rapidly shrinking out of sight. In the back of the car fourteen-year-old Bellamy was listening to music on his AirPods, completely oblivious to the fact that he was going to get into trouble at school _again._

Getting two kids ready for school by seven thirty every morning was harder than Marcus could ever have imagined. Bellamy and Octavia weren’t his real kids, just his God kids, but they were staying with him whilst their mom was away on an archeological dig in Mexico for three months. They were the closest thing he had to family and he loved them both dearly. He’d been a part of their lives since they were born, and his house in the suburbs of Arkadia with the swimming pool and huge flat screen TV that was like going to the movies was like a second home for them. 

When he’d happily agreed to take them on for the three months, he hadn’t banked on the stress of an eight year-old-girl who never wanted to get dressed in the mornings and could never find at least one thing she needed - yesterday it had been her sneaker, which is why she’d ended up going to school with one sneaker and one sandal, unbeknownst to him, and a fourteen-year-old boy just hitting puberty who spent way too much time in the bathroom and whose AirPods were permanently glued to his ears. Mornings were literal hell, because he hated getting cross with them, but sometimes it was the only way to make sure they got to school sometime before first period ended. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself as the clock on the dashboard changed to seven thirty-eight. “She had _all evening. ALL EVENING.”_ He could feel the vein in his temple throbbing and sweat forming on his collar. He glared at the front door, willing it to open, and for Octavia to come out, and wondered for the zillionth time why he cared so much if they got into trouble at school. 

Deep down, he knew the answer to that. Octavia had been late for school three days out of five last week, and this was the third time this week, which meant that he would be called to attend a conference with her teacher to discuss the problem. And Marcus didn’t want to have to do that, partly because he preferred to leave that sort of thing to Aurora, but also because Mrs Griffin, Octavia’s teacher, was stunningly beautiful and he had a tendency to turn into a bumbling mess with the personality of a jellyfish around her. 

The memory of the first time he’d met her, the day before the first day of term, still made him break out in a sweat. He hadn’t been at all prepared for the striking woman with the deep brown eyes and voice that was like rich coffee laced with cognac who had greeted him at the door to the classroom. Her warm smile of welcome lit up her face and he was instantly captivated; his knees turned to jelly and his stomach started somersaulting like it was trying to win an Olympic medal. 

“Hi! I’m Mrs Griffin,” she said, and her voice sent shivers down his spine. “And you are?”

“Marcus,” he’d said, pleased that he’d managed to get his brain in gear and connect it to his tongue to give an intelligible answer, but apparently it was the _wrong_ answer, because her smile grew wider and she wrinkled her nose adorably. 

“Uh, surname?”

“Oh. Um. Kane. Marcus Kane.”

“Okay. Let’s see.” She picked up the list and scanned the names of the children and parents. “Okay, Octavia Blake. So you’re her step-dad?”

“No, just her guardian. Her mom is a close friend and she’s away for work for three months.”

“Okay. That’s great. I hate to be nosy but it’s good to know a child’s home situation.”

“Of course,” he said, his eyes lingering on hers. God, she was gorgeous. This was unfortunate, extremely unfortunate. He noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring but had a faint tan line, as if she’d worn one until recently. 

“So, first things first. Any allergies or intolerances?”

“I’m allergic to strawberries,” he answered. “And peppers tend to disagree with me as well.”

Mrs Griffin’s mouth twisted as she tried not to laugh. She flicked her hair - it was glorious hair, long and thick and slightly wavy - over her shoulder and leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “I was talking about Octavia,” she whispered, her nose wrinkling slightly again in amusement. 

His cheeks caught fire. _Fuck._ He was so dumb, of course she was talking about Octavia. Why on earth would she want to know what _he_ was allergic to? He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. She was looking at him with something akin to pity in her eyes although her mouth was lifted in a smile. 

“Oh God,” he mumbled. “Sorry, of course. No, no allergies that I know of. But I’ll check with her mom.”

The rest of the meeting went reasonably well - he managed to answer all her questions correctly, and asked her about the two or three queries he had, but his cheeks stayed pink for the whole meeting. They said goodbye with a firm handshake, but as soon as he was safely in his car he smacked his forehead against the steering wheel, letting out an anguished moan. 

“You fucking, fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself. He lifted his head and tilted it backwards against the headrest, covering his eyes with his hands. “You absolute fucking idiot.” He dragged his hands down his face and blinked to focus, and just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, his gaze came to rest on Mrs Griffin, who was walking across the parking lot towards his car and had clearly witnessed the whole scene. 

“Oh sweet Jesus,” he breathed. Her car was parked _next to his_ for God’s sake, and she lifted her hand and gave him the sweetest little wave and smile before opening the door and climbing in. He waved back and then picked up his phone and frowned at it intensely until her car roared to life and she pulled out of the parking lot. 

At that point he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t see her ever again, or at least for a long, long time. 

The second time he met her, he was late picking Octavia up from a school trip, because he hadn't received the email informing him that they were arriving back at school at four pm instead of four thirty. She’d had to call him to find out where he was and the embarrassing thing was he’d been painting Octavia’s bedroom and was covered in pink paint from head to toe. He jumped in the car immediately without showering, and her face when he turned up with pink paint in his hair and beard had been a sight. Her eyes were dancing with barely-contained laughter and the way she bit her lip to try to keep a straight face made him want to throw her on the hood of his car and kiss her senseless. Of course he didn’t, not only because Octavia was there but because Mrs Griffin thought he was a dumbass with no personality and most certainly didn’t want to be kissed by him. 

Two disastrous meetings in the first month of school were more than enough for him, which was why he had no desire to have to go to a conference with her now just because Octavia couldn’t get herself organised in the mornings. It wasn’t _his_ fault and nothing Mrs Griffin could say or do would change the situation. Unless she wanted to come around in the mornings for breakfast and help him get them ready for school. He smirked to himself. Maybe he should suggest that. _No no no._ She’d just think he was even more crazy. 

The clock on the dashboard was showing seven forty-three by the time Octavia came out of the house laden down with sea shells and a huge empty crab shell she’d bought in a souvenir shop. He was nearly weeping at this point, the tinny beat of Bellamy’s earphones grating on his nerves. Octavia climbed into the car and he floored the gas, determined to defy the laws of physics and make it to school on time without breaking the speed limit.

_Anything_ to avoid another meeting with Mrs Griffin.

He didn’t avoid it. When he picked Octavia up from school that afternoon, she cheerfully announced that her teacher would like a word, if he had five minutes, and his heart plummeted. At least he wasn’t covered in pink paint like last time. He entered the school yard and approached Mrs Griffin, who was chatting easily with another mom and excused herself when she saw Marcus waiting. 

“Mr Kane.” She had the smile of an angel and the eyes of a – well, also an angel. She _was_ an angel. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” he replied, as Octavia skipped off to play with her friends. 

“It’s just that Octavia has been late six days out of the last ten,” she said with an apologetic grimace. “And I just need to see if there are any problems, or if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“She just always forgets _something,”_ he said. “No matter how many times I ask her the evening before if she has everything ready.”

“Well, you know in the parents’ section of the website, you can see exactly what she needs each day,” she reminded him. “That way you can be sure she has everything.”

“Oh.” He flushed. “I didn’t know that.” Goddammit, would he ever be able to have a conversation with her without looking like an incompetent fool? He wanted to crawl away and hide. 

“There’s an app, and you just need to sign in with your institutional email address you activated at the beginning of term. You did that, right?”

_Of course he did._ “Um, no.”

She took a deep breath, and plastered a smile on her face. “Maybe it’s better if I show you. Are you free at four tomorrow? I’m afraid I have a meeting now, but tomorrow I can help you set it up.”

“Okay, that would be great. Thank you.” _Another meeting. God help him._

“There’s another matter I need to discuss with you too. Octavia has been clashing a little too often with one of the other children. It’s becoming a bit of a problem. Has she said anything to you?”

“No, nothing,” he said. “I can try and talk to her tonight.” He hesitated, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry, I’m not much good at this. It’s all new to me.”

Her face softened visibly. “You’re doing great. It’s not easy, and there’s nothing wrong with needing a hand now and again.” 

He smiled. “Thanks.” Their eyes met, and he’d half expected to see pity or amusement in them but instead they were filled with such genuine warmth and understanding that tingles shot down his spine. He dragged his eyes away from her, searching for Octavia across the school yard. “I should let you get to your meeting,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at four. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him one last smile and turned and headed back into the school, waving to Octavia as she sprinted past towards Marcus. 

Octavia slipped her hand into Marcus’s and skipped along beside him. “Can we go get ice cream? I’m _starving.”_

He was about to say no, because he was still a bit annoyed about the mornings, and now this new problem with the kid at school, but then he realised it would be the perfect opportunity to have a chat with her. “Sure,” he said. “Do you want ice cream or gelato?”

“Gelato!” she squealed, and he laughed. 

“Come on then. Let’s go to Biba’s.”

...............

  
  


Once they were seated in a booth at their favourite gelateria, with big chocolate sundaes covered in nuts and sauce, Marcus gently turned the conversation to school. 

“So, how was your day?”

“It was okay.”

“What are the kids in your class like? Are they nice?”

Octavia made a face. “Most of them. I like Harper and Monty. They’re best friends, but they include me a lot.” Her small face darkened, and her mouth set in a straight line. “I don’t like Murphy. He’s mean to me, but he’s mean to everybody.”

“Murphy?”

“Yeah.”

“What does he do?”

Octavia didn’t answer for a moment, intent on attacking her gelato with gusto, and ended up shovelling so much into her mouth that she dropped her spoon and clutched her head in pain. “Brain freeze!” 

Marcus chuckled and pressed his big hand to her forehead, waiting for it to pass, before gently repeating the question. “What does Murphy do that’s mean?”

The little girl’s face grew sad. “He calls me orphan-O. Says my dad doesn’t want me and my mom’s left me.”

“ _What?_ O, you know that’s not true, right?” This made his heart ache. 

“Well, it’s kinda true,” she whispered, staring into her gelato. 

“Hey. No, it’s not. Your mom loves you very much, and she misses you. She’s only gone for three months, because this is an amazing opportunity for her job.” He paused. “And I love you too. You know that. I love having you and Bell staying with me.” He felt a twinge of guilt about his impatience in the mornings, but he squashed it. Most parents got impatient sometimes, he was sure. “I always have fun with you two.”

“I love staying with you too.” Her eyes lit up. “I love your pool.”

He nearly laughed at that. Eight-year-olds were so honest. “How about,” he said with a smile, “we go and have a swim now?”

“Yeah! Will you teach me to dive?”

“Okay.” He finished his gelato. “But listen. Any more problems with this Murphy kid, and you tell me, okay? And remember your mom and I love you very much.”

She nodded. “Marcus?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you marry my mom?”

He smiled. Her directness was as refreshing as her honesty. “Because your mom and I care about each other a lot, but we’re not in love with each other. And we like things just the way they are.”

“Oh. Okay.” She used her finger to clean the inside of her bowl, sucking the gelato off it noisily.

He tutted. “O. Don’t do that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry.”

He handed her a napkin and she wiped her hands, eyeing him thoughtfully. “You should get a girlfriend, though. You’d be less grumpy then.”

He spluttered. “I’m grumpy?” 

“Sometimes,” she grinned, as she slid out of her seat. “Come on. I’ll race you to the car.”

...............

“Okay, spill,” said Callie, pouring another glass of wine for her girlfriend Charmaine and settling back on Abby’s sofa. “What’s the inane grin for?”

Abby blinked at her innocently. “Inane grin?”

Charmaine intervened. “Abby, your face is so stretched it looks like you’ve swallowed a coat hanger.”

“It is not!” She sucked in her cheeks, trying to stop her mouth widening into a smile and failing, making her friends laugh gleefully. 

“You’ve met someone,” said Charmaine shrewdly. “I haven’t seen you smile like that in months.”

“Ooooh.” Callie sat up, eyes round with curiosity. “Who is it?”

“You know, maybe I’m just happy to spend an evening with my friends,” objected Abby. “I haven’t seen either of you for ages, outside of work.” Callie was the kindergarten teacher at Abby’s school, and Charmaine was the IT technician for all of the schools in the area, so they saw each other occasionally at work but rarely without a class full of kids in front of them. 

Callie and Charmaine looked at each other, considering the concept. “Nah,” they said in unison. “It’s a guy.”

“I assure you, it is _not.”_ She leaned forward and helped herself to a handful of peanuts, eyeing them challengingly, as if daring them to contradict her again. “By the way, I love your hair, Char. Did you get highlights?” 

Charmaine wore her chestnut hair in a bob which was slightly shorter than shoulder length, but in the evening sun streaming through the window she could see glimpses of red. 

“Low lights,” said Charmaine through a mouthful of peanuts. “And don’t change the subject.”

Abby rolled her eyes and took a gulp of wine, shaking her head at their insistence as the alcohol warmed her veins. 

She jumped when Callie slammed her hand on the table. “I know who it is.”

“What?”

“It’s that dad who has a crush on you. I saw you talking to him after school today.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” Abby muttered, her cheeks reddening as she remembered his soft brown eyes smiling down at her.

“Oh puh-lease,” said Callie, rolling her eyes. “He looks at you like, like –“

“Like?” Abby raised an eyebrow, curious as to how Callie was going to finish the sentence.

“Like you’re the biggest, chocolatiest, marshmallowiest ice-cream sundae he’s ever seen, and he hasn’t eaten in a month.”

Charmaine roared with laughter. “Sounds like a crush to me.”

“It isn’t! I mean he doesn’t!” Abby glared at them both. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is he hot?” Charmaine asked Callie, ignoring Abby’s protests. 

“He’s cute. Floppy dark hair, twinkling brown eyes. Beard. Sweet smile.”

“Oh my God, he sounds perfect for her. More importantly, is he single?”

“I think so. I think he’s divorced from the kid’s mom. I’ve never seen the mom, anyway.”

“Have you finished talking about me like I’m not here?” interjected Abby. “He’s Octavia’s guardian, by the way, not her father. And yes, he’s _very_ cute, but he’s also a bit of a dork.”

“He gets dorky around you,” Callie waved her wine glass in Abby’s direction, “because he likes you and he gets famulluxed.” She frowned. “Fallumalloxed.”

“You mean flummoxed,” said Charmaine wryly. 

“Yep. Flumulloxed.”

Abby giggled at her friend’s inebriated state, but she couldn’t help wondering if Callie was right. She remembered how she’d seen him with his head against the steering wheel in his car after the first time they’d met. He’d seemed mortified by his mistake about the allergies and it had kind of melted her heart a little. He was incredibly sweet. And hot, but she wasn’t going to admit that either. She finished her wine, and Charmaine immediately poured her another. 

“Okay.” Charmaine set the wine bottle down. “Let’s make a plan of action.”

Abby frowned. “What for?”

“To set you up with –“ she screwed up her nose, trying to concentrate“– with bearded guardian man.”

“Bearded guardian – you make him sound like a Marvel superhero.”

Callie spat her wine across the table at that, and Charmaine had to pat her hard on the back until she’d gotten her breath back. When she’d recovered she wiped the tears from her cheeks, but immediately dissolved into giggles again. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Abby and Charmaine were giggling uncontrollably too. Abby finished her second glass of wine and poured herself another, aware that she was probably going to regret this at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, Abs. Admit it,” Charmaine said, her words slurring slightly. “If he asked you out for a date, would you say yes?”

Abby shook her head, gesturing vaguely. “I don’t know. Maybe. Okay! Yes, probably.” 

“Right, that’s that sorted then,” said Charmaine smugly. 

Abby felt the room spinning, and a vague sensation that she’d missed something here. “What’s what sorted,” she asked, throwing grammar to the wind and blinking to focus on the faces opposite her. 

“You, going out on a date with Bearded Guardian man,” said Charmaine with a little hiccup, which made them all dissolve into giggles again. 

“But I’m not,” gasped Abby through her laughter. “He hasn’t asked me yet.”

“Of course he hasn’t, and if you wait for him, you’ll be waiting forever. Which is why,” Charmaine said knowingly, “you’re going to have to ask him.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Friday morning went better. Marcus had actually sat down with Octavia the previous evening and gone through everything she needed for the following day, and as a result they were already on their way to school at seven thirty-three. Marcus was ecstatic, although he wasn’t sure why; he still had to go to the meeting after school with Octavia’s teacher, but at least this morning she would see that he  _ could  _ manage after all, and maybe wasn’t such a dumbass as she’d originally thought. 

He was surprised to find that he wasn’t dreading the meeting as much as he expected. In fact, dare he admit it, he was actually looking forward to it a tiny bit. He felt that things had changed slightly between them the day before. The way she’d looked at him, the warmth in her eyes - he felt like she’d actually  _ seen  _ him, as a man struggling in an unfamiliar situation, instead of just a bumbling idiot with half a brain. 

He got to school that afternoon at twenty minutes to four, so that he could park easily and be waiting when the bell rang. He was the first person at the school gate, which was a first. He turned his collar up against the crisp October breeze and pushed his hands deep into his coat pockets, and tried to calm the butterflies inside him. 

The bell rang, and Octavia’s class poured out of the classroom doors. His eyes scanned the throngs of kids for Octavia, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was beginning to panic, wondering if maybe she’d played truant instead of going in to school that day. Where the hell was she?

“It’s okay.” A soft voice made him start, and he turned to see Mrs Griffin beside him. He hadn’t even seen her approaching. “I sent Octavia to read in the library for an hour, so we have time to talk.”

_ An hour?  _ That was a long time to keep his bumbling idiocy at bay. “Great, thanks,” he said with a smile. The last of the kids were leaving, so she led him into the classroom and indicated for him to sit down opposite her. 

“So Octavia was on time this morning!” she said as she switched on her pc. She seemed genuinely pleased for him. 

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, trying not to preen. “We had a long talk after school yesterday.”

She nodded. “She’s a great kid. A bit headstrong, but incredibly bright. She’s almost too advanced for this class. With her brains and tenacity, she’ll go a long way.”

“Thanks.” He was touched by her words. 

“Did she say anything about any of the other kids?”

“Yeah. She said Murphy is mean to her. Apparently he calls her orphan-O, because she doesn’t have a dad and her mom has “left” her with me.”

“Oh. Wow. I had no idea. No wonder she flies into a rage with him. I’m sorry.” She looked chagrined. “You know, this might also explain why she’s reluctant to get ready for school in the mornings.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” 

“I’ll put a stop to it first thing Monday morning, and we’re going to do a project about families as part of the inclusion programme. You know, talking about how a family isn’t only mom dad and kids. Hopefully that will help.”

“Thank you. Octavia and her brother are definitely my family even though they’re not blood related to me.”

“She clearly adores you. You’re all she talks about. It’s great that you have such a close relationship.”

“I love her like my own daughter,” he said simply.

She didn’t answer that, just gave him a soft smile, and turned the monitor of her pc towards him so that he could see it better. “Okay. So this is the school website, arkadiaelementary.com. If you click here –“ she clicked on the drop down menu at the top “– you’ll find “Institutional email.” She clicked on it and a new page opened, and he leaned closer to see, but not too close because her scent, something fresh and citrusy that seemed more like shampoo than perfume, did things to him that he’d rather avoid right now. 

“Okay, so your email address is just your name dot surname at arkadiaelementary dot com.” She typed “Marcus.Kane@arkadiaelementary.com.” “And the password is “Arkadia100” but you have to modify it to something personal on your first access. Here.” She pushed the keyboard towards him, and averted her eyes while he typed. He scratched his chin for a moment and then typed “belloctavia148” which wasn’t very original but at least he’d remember it. It was just their names and ages and anyway, it wasn’t as if it was a high security website. 

“Okay!” She beamed at him and he felt himself growing warm. “Now that you have your institutional email address, you’ll receive all the information you need about school activities, and you can use this to communicate with me or the school about any queries or problems you have. Do you have your phone? If you download the app, we can sign in and you’ll see how simple it is.”

“Sure.” He pulled it out of his pocket and swiped to unlock it, cringing inwardly at his lock screen wallpaper which was his mom’s labradoodle lying on his back with his legs in the air. At least his home screen was Bellamy and Octavia at the beach, tanned and laughing and covered in sand. 

“Cute dog!” she said. “Is it yours?”

“My mom’s,” he said, blushing slightly. “He’s dumb. Look.” He opened up another photo of the dog wearing a hat and sunglasses - Octavia’s doing - and his heart skipped a beat when she let out a peal of laughter. She had a beautiful laugh, deep and throaty, the kind that brightened up your day and made you want to laugh as well. Their eyes met and their grins widened until they both remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. He lowered his eyes to his phone again, feeling suddenly self-conscious, and closed the photo app. What was he thinking, showing her photos of his dog. That’s not what he was here for. 

He downloaded the app and signed in, and she showed him how it worked, taking his phone off him to scroll through the different sections. 

“And you can check your emails here,” she said, clicking on the small envelope. “Well, when you have some.” She paused, staring at the screen, momentarily lost in thought. “I know, why don’t I send you an email now, and you’ll see how it works.”

“Okay.” He took his phone back off her and closed the app. She turned to her computer and typed briefly, and as soon as she pressed send a notification came through on his phone. He clicked it, and it took him straight into the email on the app. 

It was an incredibly short email, only five simple words, but they were absolutely the last words he expected to read. 

_ Have dinner with me tomorrow? _

  
  
...............

So the following evening at seven o’clock, Marcus found himself knocking on her door, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. He was nervous as hell; he hadn’t been on a date with someone he was this interested in in ages. His hands were sweating and his stomach wasn’t so much as somersaulting as backflipping off a ten meter diving board. He’d trimmed his beard and was wearing his best white shirt and black jeans and the new cologne Aurora had helped Bellamy and Octavia choose for his birthday - he scrubbed up pretty well, if he did say so himself. Dazzling her with his scintillating conversation was a different matter. 

Still, he hadn’t been exactly scintillating yesterday when he’d read her email either. He was so surprised when he’d opened the message that he’d frozen, staring at it open-mouthed, terrified that in some way he was missing something and that he was about to make a monumental fool of himself again. When he’d finally looked up at her, she was watching him with something that looked like hope in her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink, and he realised with a jolt that her question was sincere, and she was waiting nervously for his answer. He tried to gather his wits to formulate an eloquent response.

“Okay,” he’d said simply, and then cringed inwardly. That was the best he could do?  _ Come on, Marcus,  _ he mentally rebuked himself. “I mean, yes. Thank you. I’d love to!”

Her face had broken into a huge smile of relief and he couldn’t help grinning back at her goofily. She’d given him her address and phone number, and he’d left the school feeling like he’d won the lottery  _ and  _ been elected president. He was just about to get in his car when a thought struck him. 

He didn’t even know her name. 

He pulled out his phone and texted her, umming a little over how to phrase it. “While going on a date with Mrs Griffin fulfills every fantasy I had as a teenager, I feel it might be slightly more appropriate if I knew your first name.” He wondered if it was too flirty, but decided to go with it. She’d just asked him out, for goodness sake, and he was pretty sure she had a sense of humour. She’d immediately responded with a row of laughing face emojis, followed by a simple “It’s Abby.”

_ Abby.  _ Oh God, he loved her name, it was so perfect for her. It was sweet but sexy, a tantalizing mix of innocence and sensuality that just made him want to delve into her and discover everything about her. Tomorrow evening couldn’t come quickly enough. 

And now here he was, at her door, feeling like the shy teenager in his text message. Of course she looked stunning when she answered the door, wearing a pair of jeans and a black off the shoulder top that hugged her slim waist and long legs. Her hair was loose and fell softly around her bare shoulders, and her eyes were dark and smokey even though she was wearing minimal makeup. 

“Hi,” he said when he’d gotten his breath back. 

“Hi!” she said, just as breathlessly, and he handed her the flowers and wine. “Aw, thank you! They’re beautiful.” She sniffed them, closing her eyes slightly. “Come in. Did you have any problems finding me?”

He followed her into the kitchen, willing his tongue to untangle itself. “Oh, no. I used, erm, google maps. No problem. It’s a lovely position,” he said. Her house was right on the outskirts of Arkadia, on the other side of town from his, with a view out over the river and rolling green hills. 

“Thanks. I like it. Red or white wine? Or do you prefer beer?” 

“Whatever you’re having,” he said. He glanced around the kitchen, and his eyes fell on a photo of a blonde haired child about Octavia’s age pinned to the fridge with a magnet. “Oh! You have a daughter?”

“Yes. Clarke. She’s ten.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise.” He glanced around, as if expecting a ten year old to jump out and join them for dinner, and she chuckled, clearly reading his mind. 

“Don’t worry, she’s with her dad this weekend.” She passed him his wine, and moved closer to clink her glass against his. “We have the place to ourselves for the evening.” She put her glass on the table and returned to the stove. “I made spaghetti bolognaise, is that okay? No peppers,” she added mischievously, and he grimaced. 

“Oh God. You must have thought I was such a dork.”

“A bit,” she chuckled. “But it was cute. You were so earnest. And at least it meant I knew not to use peppers, or strawberries for dessert.”

He laughed. “Oh, so you were gathering valuable information for future reference?”

“Exactly.” She placed two plates on the table and served up the pasta. “So where are your kids tonight? Octavia’s brother is only fourteen, right? You don’t leave them alone, do you?” 

He loved the fact that she referred to them as  _ his _ kids. “God, no. They’d probably kill each other. My mom’s staying with them. Bellamy will probably be playing video games all night. I swear that kid never sleeps. Octavia is probably making my mom watch endless episodes of Kim Possible.”

“Clarke loves that too.” Her face lit up. “Hey! One time we should do something with the kids! I think Clarke and Octavia would get on well.”

“Sure,” he nodded, his mind focusing on the words  _ one time.  _ She was already planning to see him again. 

They began to eat, and any initial shyness he’d felt around her soon flew out of the window. She was so easy to talk to. They talked about the kids, their jobs, the state of the economy, books, movies, music. She told him that she had applied for the position of vice principal and had a good chance of getting it. He loved listening to her talk, her voice was deep and musical, her accent slightly more east coast than his. Her laugh was as rich and sweet as the chocolate mousse she served for dessert. And she loved to laugh. She laughed at his jokes, she laughed when he told her how Octavia put green dye in Bellamy’s shampoo and made him look like the Incredible Hulk, she laughed when he told her how he’d spent twenty minutes trying to open his car with the remote and had even gone to buy a new battery for it before realising that it wasn’t, in fact, his car, and his car was fifty yards down the street, happily locking and unlocking itself every time he pressed the button. 

He marvelled that he didn’t feel any need to hide his dumb mistakes from her, or to try to appear more cool and in control than he was. If anything this side of him seemed to attract her even more, and with each story he told her her laugh became louder, her expression more attentive, her eyes brighter and warmer. They sat at the table for hours after they’d finished eating, before Abby suggested coffee and they moved to her comfortable couch in the living room. He sat at one end, and she came to sit next to him, her legs curled under her. 

“Alexa play ‘Natalie Cole Essentials,” she said and the room was filled with the soft notes of ‘I wish you love’. They sipped their coffee in companionable silence.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said. “I’ve really enjoyed myself.”

Happiness flitted across her face. “Me too. I had fun. I don’t think I’ve laughed so much in a long time.” She bit her lip, looking like she needed to say something. “Um, you know, my divorce only came through last month. It was pretty messy. We were separated for a year before that, but I haven’t actually dated anyone since my husband left.”

“Okay,” he said, wondering where he was going with this. “If it’s any consolation, I haven’t dated anyone in much longer than that.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Really.” He wondered if he’d made a mistake telling her that. It made him look like a bit of a loser, or maybe desperate. And he really wasn’t. He just hadn’t met the right woman until now. Until  _ her.  _

“I think it would be better if we take things slowly. You know, get to know each other first. I don’t really want to rush into anything and then it all goes wrong and -”

“Of course,” he said softly, a million emotions running through him. This wasn’t just a casual date for her, a bit of fun. She clearly saw something worth holding on to here. He touched her cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Thank you,” she said, and hesitantly she leaned forwards and kissed him softly on the lips.

His whole body reacted to her, like a charge of electricity shooting through him. Her mouth was warm and soft, and she immediately yielded to him, her tongue finding his in a slow dance. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, deepening the kiss, and her hands moved to his hair to hold him closer. She tasted of coffee and chocolate mousse and red wine, and he couldn’t get enough. When he felt the kiss heating up a little too much, their hands beginning to roam in exploration, he summoned all of his self-control to pull away from her. He’d just promised her they would take things slowly, and they were ten seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off. 

“Abby,” he smirked softly. “This isn’t taking it very slowly. At least not in my book.”

She smiled, and caressed his beard. “Nope. Not slowly at all. This was my fear,” she said vaguely. 

“I should go,” he said. “Thank you for everything.” He kissed her again and then stood up and made his way to the door. She followed him, and before he opened the door he pulled her to him and placed a light kiss on her head. “Is it okay if I call you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it. Goodnight. Drive safely.”

“Goodnight, Abby,” he said as he headed down the path towards his car, and home, and a cold shower. 


	3. Chapter 3

Abby felt strange when she woke up on Sunday morning. Something was different. She lay in bed, wrapped in her huge soft duvet and stared at the ceiling. Maybe it was the fact that the house was silent, and she couldn’t hear Clarke downstairs giggling at something on Disney +. She thought back to the evening before, and the dinner with Marcus, and a slow smile spread over her face. She’d honestly never met a man like him. He was so cute, and his stories of his mishaps were hysterical, but then he only had to look at her a certain way and desire pooled inside her and she wanted to rip his clothes off. How could a man be such a dork and so incredibly hot at the same time? He defied the rules of nature. She hugged herself, grinning stupidly, and at that moment she understood what was different. 

She was happy. And she hadn’t woken up feeling happy for a  _ long  _ time. Actually for at least two years, since before - no. She wasn’t going to think about that today. 

She rolled over and picked up her phone. Nine thirty. She hadn’t slept that late for a long time either. There were three messages, and she clicked them eagerly. The first was from Callie, and it simply said “So????” Abby smiled. Her friend wanted details. The second was from Charmaine, and said “Hey beautiful. Wondering how your hot date went with the bearded guardian. Call quickly because we are on tenterhooks here.”

She shook her head. They were so dumb, they lived together and were probably in bed that morning both texting Abby when one message would have sufficed. She’d call them later. 

The third message was from Marcus. She expected it to be a simple message saying how much he’d enjoyed the evening, but no. She should have known better. 

“Hi Abby. I just got home now. It’s two am. I got distracted on the way home and ended up on the highway out of town, and had to go all the way to Polis before I could turn around, because the Eden valley exit was closed for road works. So that was fun. It’s your fault, of course, because I was too busy thinking about you instead of listening to google maps. Anyway, speak to you later, and thank you again for a fantastic evening.” 

Oh God. She buried her face in her pillow, giggling hysterically, picturing him driving the highway all night when he just wanted to get home and go to bed. It was definitely  _ not  _ how he’d envisaged the evening ending, she was sure. Poor guy. She sent a text saying “O” then another saying “M” and another saying “G”. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she wrote, “If you can’t find your way home, maybe next time you should stay here…”

She was surprised when he answered straight away. He couldn’t have got much sleep if he was up already. “I thought we were taking things slowly?”

“We are,” she wrote back. “But it’s hard…”

He answered her with a single smirk emoji, clearly an innuendo about exactly  _ what  _ was hard, and she dissolved into giggles again. God, she wanted to see him again. Like,  _ now.  _ “What are you doing? Do you want to get some breakfast?”

“You know I’d love to, but I’m taking my mom home and I promised her I’d do some odd jobs in the garden she can’t manage on her own. Maybe later?”

“Okay. Call me.” She attached a kiss emoji and dropped her phone onto the bed, sighing happily. She felt like she was floating, the cocktail of happy hormones flooding her body giving her an almost weightless feeling. This was the beginning of something amazing, she was sure, and nothing -  _ nothing -  _ was going to fuck it up for her. 

…………...

In the end Marcus didn’t get back from his mom’s until six pm. He’d spent the afternoon cutting the grass and trimming the hedges, while Bellamy and Octavia raked leaves and swept the decking. They were good kids, and always helped when asked, and he was proud of them. To reward them for their hard work he ordered them pizza and let them eat it while watching a movie, after a slightly heated discussion about what to watch. Six years age difference didn’t make for easy decisions in these matters. 

When the kids were happily munching away in front of the TV, he had a shower and then retired to his bedroom to call Abby. She answered on the first ring, and he told himself that she probably just had her phone nearby, or was using it to text somebody. It absolutely  _ wasn’t  _ because she was waiting for his call. 

“Hi!” she breathed down the phone. “How was your day?”

“Tiring,” he chuckled. “I didn’t get much sleep. How about you?”

“It was fine. I slept better than I have in a long time, and today I’ve just done some errands. I always take advantage when Clarke’s not here.”

He wondered if he had anything to do with her sleeping better. “So,” he said, “how about that breakfast?”

She laughed. “Marcus, it’s seven pm!”

“Oh,” he said, feigning disappointment. “In that case, how about grabbing some dinner?”

“What about the kids?”

“Well, I can leave them for a couple of hours. Bellamy’s coming up for fifteen, and it’s not late.”

“Okay.” He could almost hear her smiling down the phone. “How about Da Gigio’s? They do great pizza and the service is quick.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll see you there in twenty minutes?”

  
  


……………

  
  


When he got to Da Gigio’s, Abby was already waiting for him in a booth by the window, so that he could easily spot her. He slid into the booth opposite her and she greeted him with a warm “hi” and a smile. God, he thought, as his tummy flipped. He was already addicted to that smile.

He picked up a menu. “What are you having?” 

“I think I’ll just have a Margherita. You?”

He scanned the menu quickly. “I’ll have a Capricciosa. It’s always a safe bet.” They ordered, and then he took her hands in his, holding them across the table. “I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too.” The look of pure happiness on her face warmed his heart, but then her nose wrinkled in amusement. “You really drove all the way to Polis at two am?”

He gave a half grin, half grimace. “I did. Well, it was one am when I got to Polis. And then I got stopped by the police, because one of my headlights wasn’t working.”

“Oh Marcus!” She shook her head in disbelief, but she was clearly amused. “Did you get a fine?”

“A small one, yeah.”

“Oh God. I’m sorry.” She threaded her fingers in his, and leaned closer to kiss him. “Does that make up for the fine?” she whispered when they pulled apart.

“Definitely,” he murmured, chasing her lips to capture them again, and she surrendered with a little hum of contentment that sent fire shooting to his groin. He was thankful they were in a pizzeria, and had to control themselves for the sake of public decency.

Luckily their pizzas arrived then, and they tucked in hungrily, talking non-stop about their day and the local elections which were taking place the following week. When they finished Abby took out her wallet and waved to the waiter. 

“I’m getting this,” she said firmly. “To make up for the fine and the extra gas you spent driving to Polis.”

“Abby, that’s really not necessary,” he frowned. “You already cooked me dinner last night. I wanted this to be my treat.” 

“I want to,” she insisted. “Don’t argue with me.” She raised an eyebrow and for a moment he caught a glimpse of the strict second grade teacher Octavia talked about. It was incredibly hot, and he smirked. 

“Okay. Thank you. But only because you’re hot when you’re bossy.”

She rolled her eyes but he could see her cheeks were flushing pink at his compliment. The waiter came over and Abby paid, and they were putting their jackets on to leave when a tall blonde woman approached their table, an overly wide smile that didn’t reach her eyes on her face.

“Abby! Fancy seeing you here!” The sweetness in her voice was as fake as her long red fingernails.

“Diana. What a nice surprise.” There was nothing fake about Abby’s response; it was clear she wasn’t enthralled with the encounter. "Diana is chair of the board of governors at Arkadia Elementary," she explained to Marcus.

Diana smiled, and turned to Marcus, eyeing him appreciatively. “And you must be Marcus dot Kane.”

He frowned at her strange form of address, and Abby’s eyes snapped to Diana’s. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Oh Abby,” said Diana, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “I thought you would have known that your institutional email account isn’t meant for flirting with the fathers of your students.”

_ “What?”  _ Abby’s eyes were flashing dangerously now. Marcus reached for her hand to calm her. “What business is it of yours what emails I send?”

“Oh, it’s very much my business, especially when we’re talking about a candidate for the vice-principal’s position. Fraternising with students’ parents is very heavily frowned upon at Arkadia Elementary. The board of governors will not view your -  _ relationship -”  _ she glanced at their hands, which were still intertwined on the table, “in a positive light at all.”

“Who I date has  _ nothing  _ to do with my ability to do my job." 

“Oh, but I’m afraid it does. School policy is very clear on this matter. No fraternising. Your ethics are compromised if you are romantically involved with the father of one of your students, not to speak of the possible psychological harm to the child if the relationship breaks down, which I’m afraid to say is  _ very _ common in these cases.”

“I’m not Octavia Blake’s father,” objected Marcus.

“That makes no difference. You are her legal guardian while her mother is away, and play a parental role in the child’s life.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not illegal,” he retorted.

“It’s not illegal, no, but it’s school policy.”

“If I don’t get the promotion because of this, I’ll fight you in court,” Abby hissed. She was shaking with anger, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining. Marcus hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He caressed her hand with his thumb and wished this vile woman would go away.

“You’ll have no proof as to why you didn’t get the promotion. You can be sure the board will be able to justify their decision very well.” She shrugged. “It’s your choice, Abby. Lover-boy, or the promotion.”

“Go to hell, Diana,” Abby spat, grabbing her coat. “Come on, Marcus. Let’s get out of here.” They stood together and, taking his hand, she led him out of the restaurant, her head held high and proud.

“Charming language for an elementary school teacher,” he heard Diana mutter as they left. He threw a last glare over his shoulder at her and wrapped his arm protectively around Abby, who immediately leaned into him. They exited the restaurant, and once they were out in the cool night air Abby’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hey.” He turned her towards him and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay.” He kissed her hair. “I won’t let them do this.” 

“We can’t stop them,” she mumbled. “Diana Sydney is pure poison, but her family is a big donor to Arkadia’s schools. It’s okay. I’m happy teaching second grade.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll withdraw my application. It’s fine.” 

“What? No. I won’t let you do that.” She was going to give up her dream of being vice principal for him? “When is the final decision?”

“The end of April. There are a series of interviews and an assessment weekend in February.”

He closed his eyes. “Then it’s simple. We just wait until the end of April to be together.”

She gazed up at him, blinking away her tears. “No… Marcus. I don’t want to wait.”

“Abby, you’d be a great vice principal. You  _ have  _ to get this job. The school needs you. And if we’re meant to be together, six months won’t change anything.”

She was silent, considering his words, but then her face crumpled. “You’d wait for me, really?”

He nodded, wiping away a tear from her cheek. “I’d wait my whole life for you,” he said softly. “Six months is nothing.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Jamie! I hope you have a great day!

On Monday morning, Abby got to school an hour early and dutifully typed an email to the board of governors, apologizing for using her institutional email for personal matters and thanking them for bringing to her attention the school policy with regards to fraternizing with students’ parents. She informed them that she had promptly ended the relationship with Mr Kane, as neither of them had any wish to compromise her professionalism in the classroom, and they both had the utmost respect for the school’s values. She finished by saying that she hoped this small incident would not affect her application for vice principal, and that she would endeavor to adhere to the school’s moral code henceforth. She also sent an email directly to Diana, apologising for telling her to go to hell, which was as painful as having a tooth extracted without anaesthetic, but it had to be done. 

Once she’d sent the emails, she went to the staff room to get a coffee, and sat looking out over the fields behind the school as she drank it. She was exhausted and drained, which didn’t bode well for a Monday morning. She’d hardly slept, because when she’d got home she’d phoned Callie and Char to vent - it was not the phone call they’d been expecting after her date with Marcus - and then she’d cried for hours before finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning.

The hot, bitter coffee slowly revived her, and her thoughts drifted to Marcus. They’d talked in his car for an hour after leaving the restaurant, trying to find a solution, playing out different scenarios, but they always came back to the same one; not seeing each other until after the board's decision. They’d toyed with the idea of keeping their relationship a secret, only seeing each other at home and never in public, but decided that would be too risky. They both had kids at Arkadia Elementary - Clarke was in fourth grade - and it wasn’t fair to expect them to keep a secret of that kind. Moreover, Arkadia wasn’t a big town, and neighbours would notice their cars at each other’s houses, and tongues would wag. As much as they hated the idea of being apart, neither of them wanted to live with the stress of lies and secrecy, and the constant fear of being discovered. 

“We can still talk on the phone,” she’d said. “It’ll be a bit like a long distance relationship. Only you’ll be right here, and we’ll have to pretend we hardly know each other in front of other people.” The thought was depressing. 

“Maybe we can go away for a secret weekend at Christmas,” he’d suggested. “I assume Clarke spends time with her dad during the holidays?”

“Usually New Year,” she’d murmured from where she was snuggled against his chest. “I’d love that. At least it would be something to look forward to.” Something to hold on to.

“We can rent a house by a lake or in the mountains, someplace far from civilisation,” he said. “And just spend the whole weekend together.”

“That sounds like heaven,” she sighed, and he kissed her for a long time, enough kisses to last the days and weeks and months that they had to be apart. 

……………

Monday morning for Marcus was just as miserable. Luckily Octavia was in good form and they got to school on time, and then he’d gone home and sat in front of his computer with the intention of doing some invoices, but in reality to stare blankly at the screen. His mind kept wandering to Abby, and the feel of her in his arms, the way she kissed him with her hands in his hair and beard as if he was the most precious thing in the world. No woman had ever made him feel like that. 

He was startled by his computer ringing like a telephone, and he looked at the screen to see an incoming FaceTime call from Aurora. He clicked to answer. 

“Hey!” he said, his heart lifting. “How are things?”

“Hi,” she smiled back. “Everything’s fine, I just need to ask you something quickly. “They’re thinking of extending the dig until Christmas, would that be a problem for you?”

“That’s great! Of course it’s okay, although Octavia might be a bit disappointed. But she’ll get over it.”

Aurora’s face fell slightly. “I know. But it’s only another four weeks.” 

“She’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I’ll plan something fun to make it up to her. Maybe we can go to TonDC World for the weekend. She deserves a treat, to be honest. Apparently she’s being bullied at school. Some little shit is calling her orphan-O.”

“What?” Aurora looked outraged. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, the situation is being dealt with. It shouldn’t happen again, but I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks. I’ll call back tonight to talk to her.” Aurora was silent a moment, studying him. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said sarcastically. “Actually, no, but I’ll tell you about it another time if you’re in a rush.”

“I’m not in a rush. It’s my morning off. I just wanted to be quick because I thought you were working. Tell me.”

He hesitated. He didn’t have any problems talking to Aurora about his love life, which was pretty non-existent anyway, but he  _ was  _ slightly worried about what she’d think of the fact that Abby was Octavia’s teacher. “Well, I met someone,” he said shyly. “And I really, really like her. But it’s a mess, and we can’t be together.”

“Oh no. She’s not married, is she?”

He huffed a laugh. “No, she’s divorced. But she’s Octavia’s teacher, and school policy doesn’t allow fraternizing between teachers and their students’ parents.”

“Oh, Mrs Griffin? I should have known you’d fall for her. She’s lovely.”

He smiled. She knew him too well. “She is.”

“I’m sorry, Marcus. This sucks. Will it make any difference when I’m back, and the kids are no longer living with you?”

He shook his head. “No. Apparently I play “a parental role” in her life, so it’s a big no.”

“Crap. I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“It’s okay. We just need to wait until the end of April. She’s running for Vice Principal, and her relationship with me will definitely jeopardise that. But it’s hard. We  _ just  _ got together.”

Aurora’s face softened. “Things will work out, I’m sure. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

“Thanks.” He flashed her a grateful smile. “Now do you mind getting off my computer screen so I can do some work?”

She laughed. “Okay, talk to you later! Love you.”

“You too. Take care.” 

……………

  
  


The week dragged on, grey day after grey day, not only in terms of weather but also in terms of joy. Abby avoided Diana at work, although she did receive a response to her email, accepting her apology and thanking her for aligning her values with those of the school. Abby swore under her breath and stuck her finger up at the computer screen, which was extremely childish but made her feel infinitely better. 

She spoke to Marcus on the phone every evening, when the kids were in bed and they were each safely in the privacy of their own room. Sometimes they would watch a show together on Netflix, talking and laughing about the plot or the characters or the acting. On Saturday evening they even had dinner together on FaceTime, which was nice, and then they talked for hours in bed, and at one point the conversation got a little heated which resulted in an unexpectedly pleasant experience for both of them. Afterwards she couldn’t help feeling a lingering emptiness, though. The act had only accentuated the physical distance between them, and made her feel even further away from him. 

Two weeks later he told her for the first time that he loved her, which filled her heart with so much happiness that she couldn’t hold it all in and it overflowed down her cheeks. That night they fell asleep together, still on FaceTime, her phone on her pillow next to her as his voice lulled her into a blissful slumber. 

At school drop off and pick up they avoided each other, not even making eye contact as the kids filed in and out of school. They treated it like a game, each determined not to be caught staring or smiling, lest Diana or her spies should catch them.

October became November, and Abby’s spirits began to lift. November already felt so much closer to Christmas, and their secret weekend away. He’d already chosen a cabin in the mountains and booked it in his mom’s name, and she was counting down the days until she was there, in his arms, with no plans to leave them for the whole weekend. 

Naturally, all talk of taking things slowly was out the window at this point. You couldn’t get more slowly than this and anyway, they both knew exactly how they felt and what they wanted. There were no doubts in her mind; she’d marry him tomorrow if she could. 

The second week in November saw the first snowfall in Arkadia, and the kids were buzzing with excitement, even though it was only two inches, the same two inches that fell every November and melted two days later. On Tuesday Abby was getting her second graders ready to go outside and play in the snow after lunch when Charles Pike, the principal, appeared at her classroom door. 

“Abby, can I have a word in my office? Eric will take your class to recreation.” 

“Sure,” she said, slightly puzzled. She flashed a smile at Eric Jackson, a student teacher doing teaching practice at the school, and followed Charles down the corridor to his office. Once there, he sat down behind his desk and indicated for her to sit down opposite him. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just studied her silently, and she waited expectantly for him to speak.  She’d always had a good professional relationship with Charles Pike. They respected each other and worked well together, although he occasionally found her stubbornness frustrating and they would butt heads over school rules. They hadn’t had any disagreements for a while, though, so she was curious about what he wanted now.

“I wanted to talk to you about the experimental Spanish bilingualism project we were hoping to run from September,” he said. “You know there was a problem with the teacher’s work permit?”

Abby nodded. She’d been disappointed they hadn’t been able to run the project, which involved a new teaching method called CLIL, or Content and Language Integrated Learning. It involved kids being taught a subject, for example geography, in a foreign language, and the idea was that they learned both the subject content and the language at the same time. It was essential to have competent mother tongue teachers, but the teacher from Argentina who had been hired had been unable to get a work permit and the project had fallen through for the current academic year.

“Well, it turns out she has the permit after all, and since she had already signed a contract with us, we’re obligated to employ her. So we will be running the project after all, from the beginning of December.”

“Oh!” This was good news. She was curious to see how it would play out. “So how is it going to work, organisation-wise? The classes are already formed.”

“Students who signed up to the program will be moved to a different class, so we’ll have three first grade classes, and three second grade classes. Two traditional classes and one bilingual class in each grade.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “The current classes are actually very big. This way we’ll have three smaller classes instead of two big ones.”

“Exactly,” he said, his face completely serious. “And I was wondering if maybe Octavia Blake would be interested in learning Spanish.”

Abby stared at him, at a loss as to what he meant, and then a thousand thoughts came crashing into her head as the pieces fell into place. It was perfect.  _ Perfect.  _ Octavia would no longer be her student, and therefore there would be nothing unethical about her dating Marcus. The policy on fraternization only referred to parents of  _ her _ students, not parents of another teacher’s students. Moreover, Octavia would be away from John Murphy,  _ and  _ it would make perfect sense for her to learn Spanish, since her mom was working in Mexico and likely would return there in the future. 

She was nearly breathless with excitement. This changed  _ everything.  _ She tried to gauge Pike, unsure exactly what he knew, but he must know  _ something, _ or he wouldn’t have singled out Octavia for the bilingual class. 

“I -” she began. “How -” she stopped again. 

“I heard about the fraternization issue,” he said quietly. “And while I can’t fault the board on their stance, because it  _ is _ school policy, you deserve to be happy. You’ve been through enough.”

She was speechless. They’d never been close, and the fact that he cared enough to suggest this was incredibly touching. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she was finally able to utter a word. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “You know, you don’t look too good. Maybe you should take the afternoon off. I’m sure Eric can cover your class this afternoon.” He winked. “It would be useful if Octavia’s - er - guardian could confirm her participation in the bilingual project as soon as possible.”

She closed her eyes. He was telling her to go to Marcus. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Abby. Let me know, okay?”

She stood up to leave, but before she did she scooted around the desk and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I’ll remember that!” he called after her, but she was already halfway down the corridor.

……………

  
  


Twenty minutes later she pulled up outside Marcus’s house. He was working from home again, and she just hoped he wasn’t in the middle of a zoom meeting or trying to meet an important deadline. She rang the doorbell and waited impatiently for him to answer. 

He opened the door and his eyes widened in shock when he saw her there. “Abby! What are you doing here?” He looked up and down the street warily, but she didn’t hesitate in pushing the door closed behind them and wrapping her arms around his neck. They kissed like two thirsty people finally finding water after being stranded in the desert. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he murmured between kisses. 

“I know.” She kissed him again. “Principal Pike sent me.”

“What?”

“They’re forming a bilingual class, from December. We wondered if Octavia would like to participate. There’s a mother tongue Spanish teacher who will take the class, and speak to the kids in Spanish.”

“A bilingual class? In Spanish? She’d love that.”

It hadn’t clicked. “That’s great. That way, she won’t be in my class anymore.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion, but then he got it and his face lit up. “You mean we won’t have to wait till April?”

“Nope. We don’t have to wait at all. As soon as you enrol her on the program, we’re safe.”

“Oh my God, this is amazing news!" He picked her up and spun her round. "Show me where to sign.” He pulled her down onto the couch and hovered over her to kiss her again. She ran her hands up his back, pulling him closer, and he buried his face in her neck and kissed every part of her that he had access to.

“You just need to send an email,” she gasped as lips trailed down her skin. “Marcus… please.”

Their clothes were quickly discarded, and soon they were lost, intent only on discovering each other with gentle hands and soft lips. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, and they moved together, breathing heavily, until the weeks of pent up desire finally exploded into something real and physical and wonderful. 

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair as she lay against his chest afterwards, trying to get her breath back. 

“I love you too,” she murmured. 

“Marry me,” he said softly. 

“Okay,” she sighed happily, wrapping her arms around him and holding him like she never wanted to let him go. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
